


Altered personality

by Nival_Vixen



Series: Word of the day [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Complete, Derek Hale Can't Have Nice Things, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Kidnapped Derek, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Dreams About Derek, Stiles saves Derek, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1698026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles makes Derek a boondoggle to keep him safe, which comes in handy a few months later when Derek's accidentally kidnapped by a witch. (Accident though it may be, the witch doesn't seem too concerned about the mistake and tortures him in place of Peter.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Altered personality

**Author's Note:**

> Word of the day: Boondoggle

"What is that?" Derek asked, eyebrow raised as high as it could possibly go.

Stiles watched in fascination as it almost disappeared into Derek's hairline, but then registered his words, and frowned. He pulled the gift back, looking down to the leather cord and trying to feel too defensive. It did look a little crappy, he supposed.

"It's a boondoggle. Made one back when I was a scout, and I happened to have a few leather strips lying around. This one's specific for you; there's different spells for protection and safety. One for happiness, though, y'know, not too big. Don't want the world ending if you laugh or something," Stiles said, grinning crookedly.

"Very funny," Derek said, rolling his eyes. Then he glanced down to the boondoggle and held a hand out for it. "Thanks, Stiles. I'll treasure it always," he said, somewhat sarcastic.

Stiles flushed bright red and dropped the length of leather into his hand, leaving before Derek could insult him further. Derek sighed, watching him go. He'd probably ruined whatever chance he had of being with Stiles long ago, but some part of him couldn't help but make sure it never happened. All of the people he cared about died, and he refused to let the same happen to Stiles.

Looking at the small leather band, Derek didn't bother trying to fit it around his neck. It was small enough to work as a bracelet though, so he slipped it on and tightened one end carefully. The leather felt heavy against his skin for a few moments, then it glowed brightly, making him look away with a blue-eyed snarl. Once the glow faded, Derek was surprised to find that it felt like he'd been wearing the boondoggle for years and he was somewhat glad that its presence wouldn't bother him. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Derek sent a text to Stiles to thank him, and then didn't let himself think about the gift again. (Not thinking about the owner of said gift was a harder task to accomplish.)

...

Months passed, and while the others in the pack had never commented on Derek's leather bracelet, he simply thought they didn't want to embarrass Stiles. He didn't bother trying to take it off because as time went on, Derek realised that he did feel a bit happier now and then. Not ecstatic and pure optimism, but enough to actually laugh and smile every so often. Right now, however, there was no smile or hint of laughter in sight. In fact, Derek's glare had probably returned three-fold and was harsher than it had ever been before.

The witch in front of him deserved it, though. She'd whisked him out of his loft with a spell (it had been intended for Peter, apparently), and since her plan to trap and torture Peter had fallen through, she decided that he would suffice as an alternative. Derek had survived a lot of torture over the years, but this witch was one of the most sadistic (and that included Kate) and she'd spent a lot of time harvesting his blood (her words, not Derek's) for various spells and rituals that she had actually admitted she would probably never perform.

There was a loud crash outside, followed by even louder cursing, and Derek lifted his head with a laboured breath when he realised he recognised the voice. He winced when his chest pulled in pain at the mere motion of lifting his head, but the witch was distracted by the noise and didn't notice.

"Hey, let him go!"

Really, Stiles? That's the best you've got? Derek thought dizzily. He must have lost a lot of blood because Stiles kind of looked incorporeal. Maybe it was the light?

"Don't give me that look, Sourwolf. I'm running on fumes here," Stiles added with a brief glare. "Now, let him go before I make you regret it."

The witch laughed. "Just how do you plan on doing that, boy? I can see your spark, and it's nothing compared to my power."

Stiles didn't seem fazed and just grinned broadly. "We'll see about that, witch."

He dug in his pocket, and pulled out a strip of leather, tying it around his wrist. The moment the knot was tied, Stiles was seemingly flung through the air directly at Derek. He managed a slight wince of pain as Stiles slammed into his bloodied body, gasping. Stiles apologised, lifting his wrist to touch the two leather bands together, and then they both disappeared, the witch's shriek following them.

"Oh, fuck. It worked. Holy shit. I didn't think it would work, but it worked!" Stiles said, looking so damn pleased with himself. "Fuck!" Stiles cursed as Derek fell forward onto him, clearly exhausted.

Now that he was out of the witch's circle, Derek could feel his wounds closing up slowly. He was alive and would survive, but for now he just needed to sleep. He'd barely finished the thought before he did fall asleep, Stiles' arms around him and struggling to hold him up.

...

When Derek woke up, he could hear Stiles talking to Scott on the phone, and just took a moment to listen.

"Dude! Just stop judging me, all right? I did it, okay? I saved him, and yeah, that witch could've killed me, but I'm still here and alive!"

"Stiles, Deaton says that you almost killed yourself with that spell! You've probably just lost a few years off your life because of it!"

Stiles just laughed sourly. "You think I plan on living that long, Scotty? Maybe before, yeah, but now? Not exactly making any retirement plans, y'know?"

Scott sighed heavily. "Yeah, I know. You know that you can leave any time you - "

"No fucking way, Scott. I'm in this now, and I'm not leaving, no matter what you try to do or say, okay? I'm here 'til the end."

Scott sighed again, though this one sounded more relieved than concerned. "I know you are, Stiles. I'm glad you are; wouldn't want anyone else by my side."

"Oh, stop. I'm blushing," Stiles said sarcastically (Derek could almost hear him rolling his eyes).

"Yeah, yeah. Go check on your patient. Let me know when Derek's fit enough to go for a run, okay?"

Stiles snorted. "When isn't Derek fit? In fact, in a dream I had - "

"I don't want to know any more about your sordid little fantasies, Stiles. Not after last time!"

"Hey, you asked Isaac to dress up in garter stockings after I told you about that; you don't get to judge me."

"When it's Derek I do."

"You suck. You lose all best friend privileges for the rest of the week."

"It's Saturday."

"Yeah, you're lucky I like you. Now go play with your boy and his scarves or something. He has a thing about his scarves smelling like you."

"Really? I thought that was just about scarves."

"Dude, if Isaac got any more heart eyes while wearing a Scott-scented scarf, he would literally have hearts for eyes," Stiles said, shaking his head as he wandered over to Derek's bed. "Oh, hey Derek. You're awake," he said, hanging up on Scott immediately. "Uh, how much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to be reconsidering buying socks on my next shopping trip," Derek admitted, trying not to smirk too much.

Stiles went bright red and coughed a bit, whacking his chest. "Right, uh. Can we just pretend that you didn't hear that?"

Derek was silent for a moment, watching as Stiles tried to overcome his embarrassment. "Is what Scott said true?"

"Look, it was just a thing I was thinking about one night, and I thought you'd look hot in black garters, and ... that's not what you're talking about, is it?" Stiles trailed off at Derek's amused look. "What about what Scott said?"

"The spell you did to find me and bring me back; did it really take years off your life?"

"Uh, yeah, a couple. It's nothing too major - I mean, I'm not going to drop dead in the next month or something - I'll just have to be willing to die around the age of 85 or so. Although, at this point, I'd be pretty fucking pleased if I even reached 45," Stiles admitted with a shrug. "Seriously, don't go all doom and gloom on me, sourwolf. It was my choice and I made it."

"You could have just waited until the pack found me."

"Dude, you were in Ireland. There was no fucking way they would've found you in time," Stiles said, shaking his head. "Just say thank you, or glare at me and tell me to leave, whatever, okay? I'm not going to apologise for saving you or bringing you back, not when I won't mean a word of it."

Derek didn't hear a single tremor or jump in Stiles' heartbeat, and he nodded slowly, fingers playing with the leather boondoggle on his wrist. "Thank you for saving me, Stiles."

Stiles' jaw dropped and he stared at Derek. "Wait, what? Did that witch transplant your personality or something? You actually thanked me?!"

"I'm starting to regret it now," Derek muttered, rolling his eyes.

Stiles laughed and bounded over to the bed, moving to sit beside him. "You said it, you can't take it back now. And you're very welcome, Derek. Now, how're you feeling after that bitch tried to drain you?"

"Not bad, considering," he replied, glancing down to see his chest whole and no remnants of blood in sight. "Did you bathe me?"

"Yeah. Used a bit of magic for it, since I didn't think you'd appreciate me seeing all your junk while you were unconscious."

"I'm not unconscious now," Derek pointed out, smirking slightly.

"Oh, fuck. Maybe I did the spell wrong and fucked up your personality?" Stiles murmured, looking horrified.

Derek shook his head and pulled Stiles in by his plaid shirt. "I'm attempting to flirt with you, Stiles. It's not a personality transplant, okay? You drive me crazy, and I'm sick of trying to stay away from you to keep you safe. Not when you can't seem to keep yourself out of trouble for less than a month."

"This coming from the guy that got caught in a witch's trap set for Peter," Stiles snorted, but licked his lips and watched Derek for any other anomalies.

Derek scowled at that, which seemed to make Stiles feel better. "Peter is going to get his ass kicked for that, believe me on that. But first, you and I are going to have a very long and detailed talk."

"That's it? Talk?" Stiles asked, blinking in surprise.

"Yes, talk. First, we're going to start with that comment you made about black garters, and we'll work our way up from there," Derek said with a smirk, moving to kiss Stiles briefly.

Stiles pulled away dazedly, licking his lips. That was a talk he was more than willing to have. Multiple times over, in fact.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading!


End file.
